I’ve not heard any of the previous discs that Philip Cave and Magnificat
have made but I’ve read good things about them. I was delighted, then, to
get the opportunity to appraise this, their latest recording.
The pieces that comprise this programme were probably written between the
1530s and the 1570s. It’s worth reminding ourselves what a turbulent time
this was in England as politics and religion became entwined in an
often-toxic mixture. During the reign of Henry VIII (1509-47) the Protestant
Reformation began, though by no means all vestiges of the Roman liturgy were
swept away. Under Edward VI (1547-1553) a much stricter form of
Protestantism was introduced, only for Catholicism to be restored with a
vengeance under Edward’s sister, Mary (1553-58). Then during the long reign
of Elizabeth I (1558-1603) English Protestantism became more firmly
established. These were difficult times in England: being caught on the
wrong side of the politico-religious divide could cost you your head.
Composers were by no means immune from the state of flux and were obliged to
tailor their religious music to fit the prevailing climate under various
monarchs. Yet the Latin observances continued, sometimes with the approval
of the authorities, sometimes with the authorities turning a blind eye, and
sometimes in covert circumstances.
It’s hard to imagine William Mundy’s magnificent, large-scale Marian
anthem
Vox Patris cælestisbeing sung under covert circumstances;
it’s expansive music on a grand scale. As Kerry McCarthy’s splendid notes
tell us, this was almost certainly a product of the brief Marian revival
during the reign of Queen Mary. The text is an elaborate paraphrase of words
from the Song of Songs which Mundy set in up to six parts, though often he
simplifies the texture, reducing the parts down to three or four separate
lines. I very much like Philip Cave’s spacious treatment - his performance
takes more than two minutes longer to unfold than the one by Peter Philips
and the Tallis Scholars (
review) and Harry Christophers takes four minutes less than
Cave (
review). Despite Cave’s more expansive approach I
didn’t feel any lack of tautness in the performance but he gives the music
even more space in which to breathe than do his two distinguished colleagues
in their very fine performances. In this Magnificat performance I admire
very much the clarity with which the lines and the words are enunciated. In
this they’re helped by the excellence of the recording and the intelligent
placing of the microphones and layout of the choir means that you can also
hear in a very satisfying way the effects when Mundy switches from one
combination of voices to another. The consummation of a magnificent piece of
musical architecture, here marvellously performed, is a gloriously prolonged
and elaborate ‘Amen’.
It’s interesting to move from Mundy’s grand piece to Robert White’s Marian
piece
Tota pulchra esin which White sets the more conventional
words from the Song of Songs rather than the elaboration used by Mundy. Both
White’s chosen text and his music are more concise. However, even if this
six-part piece is on a less ambitious scale it’s still highly impressive.
The vocal lines interweave more in White’s piece as compared to Mundy’s and
so, paradoxically, in this less grand piece the words are less clear.
Instead White achieves the effect of a constant ‘buzz’ or stream of
devotion.
William Mundy is represented also by two smaller pieces, his psalm-motets,
Adhæsit pavimentoand
Adolescentulus sum ego. Both of these
are much less ambitious in scale and design than
Vox Patris
cælestis. In Kerry McCarthy’s words these highly effective pieces “rely
instead on through-composed imitative polyphony that is deftly woven into a
dense six-part fabric.” The same could be said of White’s psalm-motet,
Domine, quis habitabit?
Philip Cave’s programme also includes a single work each by Taverner,
Tallis and Byrd. The former is represented by his
Quemadmoduma 6.
Stylistically this is much less elaborate than much of his music, eschewing
what Kerry McCarthy pithily refers to as “the wandering gothic tracery of
much early Tudor polyphony”. The six-part writing is simple and direct in
expression and in that sense might have well conformed to Cranmer’s
requirement for simplicity of expression in church music. In the notes we
read that the music survived as an instrumental piece in an Elizabethan
household manuscript and was only re-joined to its text comparatively
recently. Listening to it one can readily imagine a consort of viols playing
it.
The pieces by Tallis and Byrd were both published in the collection
Cantiones sacrae (1575). Apparently, there have been suggestions
that Tallis could have written
Suscipe quæso Domine, with its
heavily penitential words, as early as 1554 though Kerry McCarthy seems to
favour a later date. It’s a wonderful piece and here it’s sung with just the
right blend of poise and intensity.
Tribue, Domine, an equally
memorable piece, finds Byrd apparently experimenting with textural variety
by alternating ‘full’ and ‘verse’ sections.
The quality of performance here is uniformly high. In discussing
Vox
Patris cælestisI referred to the clarity of the singing. That’s true
throughout the programme. Equally consistent is the excellence of balance
and blend. These are singers who are evident experts in this filed – as a
glance at the names on the roster of singers readily confirms – and they’re
working under an equally expert director.
Linn’s presentation is excellent. Philip Hobbs is highly experienced in
recording such music and it shows. He presents the performances in clean and
clear sound with just the right degree of ambience around the voices. It’s a
lovely sound. Kerry McCarthy’s notes are excellent and the booklet as a
whole is very nicely produced. I’m very glad that my first encounter with
this fine ensemble has lived up to my expectations.
John Quinn
Previous review:
Brian Wilson
